


Five (False) Documented Facts About Octavia Blake

by Nyxierose



Series: Divided [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Octavia clears up a few misunderstandings, states her intentions, and does not understand a basic human emotion. Oh, and is completely in over her head. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five (False) Documented Facts About Octavia Blake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Terapsina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terapsina/gifts).



> Part one of the Nikita AU because that premise is too good for me to resist.

_Octavia Blake died when she was twelve years old_

Obviously, I'm not dead. That's the funny thing about fires - it's not always clear how many people were actually there. My mother, she definitely did die. I know that. She was dead before the fire started, but that's not on the reports because nobody has any idea about that either. God, law enforcement is useless. Far as they knew, two deaths and no reason to investigate any further.

I'm not sure how I survived. Someone got me the hell out, I guess, but I don't remember that. What I remember is lying on my back in the backyard, coughing up smoke, and deciding in that moment that I needed to run. I didn't exactly have anything going for me at that point. My brother had died the year before that - in prison, no less, because that's just how much the universe seemed to hate me. I'd seen my mom get shot in the head, no idea why. And now, my own death had been faked for me. It was almost too perfect.

I started running that day. And honestly, I haven't stopped.

_Octavia Blake has been with a series of questionable individuals._

Here's the thing about guys - if you'll fuck them, they don't care about who you are. If you need somewhere to sleep and food now and then, as long as you're sexually available, that's not a problem. I've always known this. It's how my mom survived - and how my brother and I were created, let's face facts, we both knew damn well we were the results of our mother's patterns. When I was little, I thought I was gonna be better than that, but then I was a teenage girl with no resources and… you do what you have to do to survive. I'm not proud of myself, but it worked. I got lucky. I learned to pass for eighteen, and I can be a pretty good liar when I need to be. I had a type, guys in their mid-twenties mostly. It never meant anything. I didn't keep track of names - once things faded out, I moved on. I survived. I'm good at surviving.

_Octavia Blake has no one._

Okay, so… the above pattern ended thanks to a blonde avenging angel with quick reflexes and a machine gun. No, I am not kidding. One of the guys I messed with tried to hurt me and… all of a sudden, he was bleeding out and it's a good thing this was not the first time I'd seen someone get shot because I would've freaked out. I mean, I did freak out, but there was also that white light of relief, y'know? And then I saw _her_.

Petite blonde chick. A little shorter than me but curvier. The exact look I'd always kinda wanted but again, the universe hates me. Couple years older than me, but she doesn't talk about that. Wearing all black, gun still in hand. I had no idea where she'd come from. I wasn't totally sure she was _real_. But she was. She was very real and she got me the hell out of there. Took me somewhere, a safehouse. And then she started talking.

Apparently she was a spy. Or, well, _ex_ -spy. Something about a dead childhood friend or something, I didn't follow that part. Point being, the organization she'd worked for had turned from normal government black-ops to mercenary wildcard. She wanted to take them down, and she was cool with doing it from the outside, but she needed a mole. She needed someone who was _exactly_ the sort of person they'd take and transform into one of them. Basically, she needed me.

Do you know how awesome it is to finally be needed by someone? Really, genuinely needed? Best feeling in the world.

I was exactly what she needed. Twenty, a throwaway, likely to commit criminal acts, and unlikely to be missed by anyone. Clarke trained me. She made sure I knew exactly what I was getting into, how to survive, and how to stay in touch with her through everything. And then, soon as I was ready, she fed me to the wolves. She needed me. She _needs_ me. And damn, I like being needed.

_Octavia Blake has not seen her brother in ten years._

I was warned about a lot of things. Literally half of Clarke's lessons were about things I would need to be wary of once I was inside. But there was one huge thing she didn't warn me about - my goddamn brother.

I thought Bell was dead, okay? Legally, he _is_. When he was nineteen, couple weeks after he got sentenced for armed robbery, he slit his wrists. Or at least that's the story we got. Apparently it's not the real one. _Apparently_ he's been here since then. And he's one of their best. Of course he is. He never did anything halfway, y'know?

He doesn't recognize me, or at least I don't think he does. Almost everyone goes by first names only down here. Mine's weird, yeah, but I still could be anyone. I'm what Clarke referred to as generic-pretty. But still, I'm a little freaked out by this. He was supposed to be _dead_ , but he isn't and… there's no way I can say anything without completely blowing my cover. Which I'm not allowed to do 'cause I _will_ be killed on the spot if I do. Clarke didn't even have to tell me that, I just _know_. And I don't want to die. For the first time since I can remember, I don't want to die. Why that is, I'm not totally sure, but… it's kinda awesome. Just makes things complicated. Because chances are, even if I don't slip up, I'm not getting out of here alive.

_Octavia Blake has never been in love._

This is actually true. Fuck you.

((It isn't. She's fluttering for one of the others in her group. He's quiet and too kind and he kissed her a few days ago and she is absolutely _panicking_ about it. Decent people don't like her. This one is nothing if not decent. She has two goals now - play informant, and make sure that her ally gets out along with her. Why she cares, she's not sure, but it's about time she got attached to someone…))


End file.
